


wars their folly brought about

by StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Introspection, fall from grace, luke's motivations for doing what he did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26094706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese/pseuds/StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese
Summary: Luke Castellan's trips to the Garden of Hesperides, and everything that happened in between.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	wars their folly brought about

**Author's Note:**

> Do I know anything about the PJO timeline? No. Is that going to stop me? Also no.  
> Fair warning: I haven't read Percy Jackson in AGES, so if I've forgotten something stupidly obvious, let me know and I will fix it! :)

_Linger not, stranger. Shed no tear.  
Go back to those who sent us here._

_We are the young they drafted out  
To wars their folly brought about._

_Go tell those old men, safe in bed,  
We took their orders and are dead.  
–A.D. Hope_

_**October 17, 2005** _

Luke was silent and still. He hardly dared to even breathe.

The dragon yawned. It's hot breath hit Luke directly in the face, and he gagged.

This quest sucked.

For starters, it was _boring_. All he was doing was watching a dragon with _way_ too many heads, simply curled around a tree.

Of course, he would have to go through the dragon to get to his prize.

 _Focus on the apples, Luke,_ he thought to himself, allowing his eyes to focus on the shimmering golden fruit. 

Being on a quest was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Sure, he had wandered around the Great American Northeast with Annabeth and Thalia, but that had been more panicky and adrenaline filled, not to mention none of them had any idea where they were going or what they were doing until Grover showed up. But being on a quest was different– more _purposeful_. His father had given him this mission. And even though Luke thought it was stupid, he didn’t want to let Hermes down. He refused to waste this chance to gain his father’s approval.

Luke crept forwards.

The dragon let out a warning growl.

Luke licked his dry lips. He kept one careful eye on the dragon as he slowly moved forwards.

One of the dragon’s heads growled again, getting to its feet, and Luke froze as it bared its teeth.

He would have to be quick.

Luke rushed forwards. The dragon roared, but Luke didn’t stop. He slammed into the trunk of the tree and reached out blindly.

There!

Luke snatched a couple apples closest to him, accidentally tearing off some of the branch with it. Stuffing them into his sweatshirt pocket, he bolted as the dragon let out another shrieking howl of rage.

He took cover behind a bounder just out of the dragon’s reach, breathing hard. The dragon’s heads snarled and snapped their many, many teeth, but it didn’t seem to want to leave the tree behind. That was good. The problem was, Luke would have to go right through it to get out of the Garden. And he was on his own.

But… perhaps his father would help him. Right?

...Right?

For a long time, Luke had doubted the gods, hated his father. Where was he when his mother had a fit and Luke had to hide in the closet, sobbing in terror? Where was he when Luke was homeless and starving? Where was he when Thalia was dying? 

But everyone at camp insisted. _Your father will help you. He loves you. You are not alone._

 _Please, Dad._ he thought. _Help._

Nothing. Not even a breeze.

Was Luke on his own?

Had Hermes truly abandoned him?

Luke couldn’t think about it for too much longer. The dragon was getting impatient.

He took a deep breath.

He rolled out from behind the rock and started running as fast as he could, not pausing to look behind him as the dragon let out an enraged roar.

Luke could feel the dragon’s breath, hot on his heels. 

_I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to DIE!_

Luke’s feet pounded against the ground, arms pumping wildly. The dragon roared again and he was spurred on, practically flying towards the edge of the grove.

He looked back.

The dragon struck.

And a sharp pain, right beside his eye, suddenly slammed into him. Luke’s hand flew to his cheek even as he stumbled and tripped, falling over himself but recovering in a roll. The apples went flying, but Luke didn’t care. He scrambled to his feet and pelted out of the grove, dodging the dragon’s snapping teeth and eventually diving into a bush at the edge of the path.

The dragon stopped.

Luke lay on his stomach, breathing hard. He flipped over and stared back at the Garden. He grabbed at his sweatshirt pocket and felt his heart go still. 

It was empty.

The dragon laid back down.

Luke was no threat.

He had no apples.

His father had abandoned him.

Luke lay there, face stinging with pain, hot and angry tears running down his cheeks.

He had failed.

_**November 1, 2005** _

Ever since Luke had come back from his quest, people had been giving him pitying looks. The dragon’s attack had left a long scar on the side of his face. A permanent reminder of what happened when you asked the gods for help instead of relying on yourself.

_Stupid. Stupid!_

Luke _knew_ that he couldn’t rely on the gods. He had _known_ that. Why had he thought it would be any different in the Garden?

He had failed, on that joke of a quest, because he had been too stupid to trust his own instincts. The same instincts that had kept him alive for years. _Stupid!_

For a long time, Luke couldn’t bear to go to meals. Not because of the looks people gave him, although that was certainly a part of it. No, he just couldn’t stomach the idea of giving up food to the father who had abandoned him twice over. Luke had never even met the guy, it was his fault Luke had nearly died, and now Luke was expected to– what– _help him get high?_

No.

The only person who didn’t look at him pityingly was Annabeth, but being with her was almost worse. She would ask him about the quest and why he thought he had failed and what he thought she should do differently, when she got a quest of her own.

It took about a month of all of this before the dreams began.

In them, Luke would wake up in a coffin, in a huge, underground cavern. He was always older. He would look down and see wings on the heels of his sneakers, and use them to fly up and out of the cavern. He would land on Half-Blood Hill, and Thalia would be standing next to her tree, watching the camp. Luke would walk up to her and follow her gaze, only to see the camp on fire.

Luke would reel backwards in horror and break into a run to try and help, but he would move too slowly, as if he were running in molasses. Thalia, moving calmly and in normal time, would put an arm across his chest.

“No,” she would say, only it was never her voice. Thalia’s voice was not this deep, was not this old. “They are not worthy.”

And then she would grin at him, and her smile would be red and dripping with blood.

She would hand him a mirror, and with shaking hands, Luke would take it, only to see his own face, scar and all–

Only his eyes were yellow.

Luke always woke up covered in sweat, and breathing too fast and too hard, on the verge of puking.

He didn’t get much sleep, those days.

But one night, as soon as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, a hand grabbed his shoulder.

Luke nearly jumped a foot into the air, and whirled around.

The yellow-eyed version of himself was standing right behind him.

Luke yelped, scrambling backwards. “Who–”

“Be calm, son of Hermes,” the nearly-identical copy said, smiling an oily smile. “I am only here to talk.”

* * *

After that night, Luke started to hear the voice in the daytime.

“There are other demigods,” the man’s voice purred, “those who have been rejected by the gods, who have been abandoned and left alone in the world. Zeus abandoned Thalia. Athena left Annabeth behind. And your mother was insane.”

Luke started to protest, feebly, but the voice hushed him. “Did Hermes care that he was leaving a young child in that place? No. And now you’re here, fighting their little petty fights for them. You could have died on that quest, but you’re nobody special to Hermes. The gods are cowards. You know this, don’t you?”

Luke thought about Thalia. How she gave her life to protect them, and Zeus turned her into a tree. A goddamn tree. His best friend was dead, and she would have lived if Zeus and Poseidon and Hades had not dragged their children into their squabbles.

When he had seen that she was dead, he had started screaming and didn’t stop until Grover knocked him out.

In the hospital after the quest, Luke had vowed that he would never again feel the sharp sting of failure.

“Yes,” he said, and Kronos smiled.

_**December 21, 2005** _

From that conversation, things had only escalated, and they did so quickly. Lord Kronos had whispered in Luke’s ear, leading him to see the truth that he had been blind to before. The gods were cowards. They didn’t care about their children. They used demigods as a means to an end. To them, mortals were playthings, little funny squishy things that the gods could push around and manipulate and ruin, just for fun. 

Luke might have drunk the Kool-Aid during those long, sleepless nights while on the run with Thalia and Annabeth as Grover spun them stories about a safe haven where the gods loved them, but Kronos was giving him the antidote.

Luke’s name would be remembered– not as the boy who failed at his pale imitation of a “quest”, but as the man who tore down the tyranny of the gods and showed everyone the true way to greatness.

At the meeting, Luke was standing next to Annabeth, making casual conversation with the other demigods. But his eyes were fixed on his prize.

The Master Bolt.

Luke sat there, eyes on his latest target, and plotted.

* * *

Luke waited until nightfall to sneak out of the demigods’ room, and hurried into the throne room.

He didn’t particularly believe he would find anything there– he had set out quickly for a reason. But he figured he would give the throne room a cursory glance before heading off to find a godly safe or something.

But it turned out he wouldn’t need to.

Right there, on the throne of the king of the gods, there was a metallic cylinder.

Luke was so surprised, it actually took a moment for him to realize what he was looking at– the Master Bolt. Zeus’s greatest weapon. Just… lying there.

The gods were so arrogant, they left their weapons out in the open.

 _Pathetic_ , he thought in a snarl that wasn’t his own. 

Luke crept forwards, eyes darting from shadow to shadow, waiting for someone to jump out and strike at him.

Nobody did.

Luke reached Zeus’s throne unchallenged. The Bolt was resting on its arm. 

_Hurry_ , Kronos murmured. _The gods are waking_.

Luke grabbed the Bolt, which sparked angrily at the foreign touch. With a sharp hiss of pain, Luke slipped it into his backpack, noting with no small amount of satisfaction that it landed right next to his dirty socks from the day before.

He jogged back to his room and snuck in without disturbing a soul. Dumping the bag next to his pillow, Luke sat on his bedroll and looked down at his hand. There were tiny burns, little blisters beginning to form, from where he had touched Zeus’s lightning, but he didn’t care.

Soon, Olympus would be on the verge of war. Soon, he, Thalia, and every demigod who ever lived would be avenged.

 _Yes_ , Kronos purred. _Soon, we will_ all _be avenged._

Luke fell back asleep with a smile on his face.

_**June 22, 2005** _

Percy Jackson was an interesting kid. Short, mouthy, and the most powerful demigod Luke had ever seen.

He would be an amazing recruit for Lord Kronos.

It was too bad the kid couldn’t see that, too.

If there was one thing Luke couldn’t figure out, it was why Jackson supported the gods so fervently. He had to know, better than anyone, how it felt to do their dirty work, to be the butt of their jokes. Hadn’t he been swept up in a plot between Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, and Ares for no reason other than he was a convenient buttmonkey? Sure, Kronos wasn’t great, but he was a better choice for the world than _Zeus,_ who had let his daughter die.

If only Jackson would calm down and pay attention to him. The kid was blinded by the glory of being Poseidon’s son, of finishing his quest successfully. He didn’t know the bite of failure.

He would, though.

Luke tried to smile. He tried to steer Jackson to his side, to the _right_ side.

 _What have the gods ever done for us? How come you grovel and bow and lower yourself at their feet, and ignore all of their wrongdoings? Poseidon abandoned you. Ares fought you– a twelve year old boy. Zeus wanted to strike you down for the crime of existing. Hades hates you because of something you had no control over. Athena tried to teach her daughter to look down on you. The gods are petty, horrible, fools, and you have to know it. Why are you so_ loyal?

It drove Luke crazy. Why, why, _why_ did Jackson refuse to join? Did he truly think that the gods were any better than Kronos?

 _Kill him_ , Kronos hissed. _Do it now, before you take the coward’s way out._

_He’s just a kid. Just like me, when Hermes failed me. What if Jackson thinks I’ve failed him, now? What if I’m just like my father, and what if I turn my back on him when he needs me?_

_Do it. Do it._

_I can talk him out of this. I can make him see. I can show him that if he joins me, nobody–not Poseidon, not his stepfather, not anyone– will ever leave him behind again–_

_DO IT!_

_...Yes, my Lord._

_Sorry, kid,_ Luke thought as he scooped the scorpion up and slipped it out of his pocket. _I gave you your chance._

_**July 21, 2006** _

Thalia was alive. Thalia was _alive_ , and Luke had almost killed her for real.

He had had no regrets about poisoning the tree– why would he? It wasn’t his friend. It had _taken_ his friend. 

Besides, it was a stupid tree. It wasn’t like it could feel anything.

But it turned out that it could.

It turned out that his friend had not been taken from him forever.

It turned out that Zeus had not failed Thalia, after all.

 _He did,_ Kronos snarled. _He told everyone she was dead. He told everyone she could not be brought back. Yet here she is. The king of the universe gave her up for a lost cause, but you were the one to pave the way for her survival. If you had never turned against the gods, if you had never unmasked Zeus for the liar he is, Thalia Grace would still be trapped in that tree, never to come out. Is that what you want?_

No. No, of course not.

Luke still had nightmares about that awful day. About running up the hill. About turning. About seeing her fall.

The hellhounds had ripped her apart before she could even scream.

But now Luke had almost killed Thalia for real.

_The gods are cowards. The gods don’t care. Thalia died for nothing._

But Thalia was alive.

Had it really all been for nothing?

 _No_ , he thought, and it had a tinge of Kronos’s growl to it. _Never_.

She wouldn’t have had to almost-die if the gods could stop taking out their squabbles on innocent children.

She wouldn’t have had to almost-die if the gods _cared_. If Zeus had truly protected her. If Hermes or Athena had shown up to help them, guard them, feed them, take them all to Camp, _something_ , back when they were barely surviving on trash and sleeping in the cold.

And now, he had an opportunity. Thalia knew better than anyone how the gods treated their children. She might relish the opportunity to seize power from her father. They might even be friends again.

Yes.

Thalia would join him. And if she didn’t, well…

Luke had accepted her death a long time ago.

_**December 20, 2007** _

Luke took a deep breath of the Bay Area air. The smell of eucalyptus was strong.

Defeating the dragon was easy. He had just had to skirt around it and go fast. 

He hadn’t even looked at the apples as he marched by, dragging Annabeth by the forearm. 

But he did wonder if Ladon remembered him.

It didn’t take long for Jackson and his merry entourage to find where they were hiding. Artemis was chained down. Atlas was waiting to pounce. Annabeth was tied up. Everything was going according to Lord Kronos’s plan.

Soon, they would see. They would all see. 

Luke waited for Jackson and company to get past Ladon. His arms were still trembling from the exertion of holding up the sky. They had been shaking on and off for days.

The group arrived.

Luke stepped into the light. 

Kronos surveyed his quarry.

Annabeth’s hair was streaked with gray.

Jackson was pale and terrified.

The Hunter was crying.

Thalia was looking at him like he’d done something unforgivable.

Luke gripped his sword tightly and prepared to die.

* * *

The gods didn’t care. The gods sent children to do their dirty work. Jackson almost died. Annabeth almost died. Thalia almost died. Children. They were _children_. 

The gods never cared.

But when Thalia kicked him over the cliff, Luke knew– even though his father had failed him, all those years ago, in this very garden– Lord Kronos would save him.

Because he meant something to Kronos. Even if he was just some henchman, just some body that Kronos could use and then discard. Better to be a lackey than a nobody. Better to serve than to die unwanted. Better to have this small recognition than to be ignored by your own father.

So Luke lay on the rocks, with Thalia standing over him on the cliffs, and he smiled a bloody smile even as the world around him started to dim.

He had won.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think!


End file.
